


ink covered skin

by fvckingavengers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Smut, Tattoo Artist Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25660912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckingavengers/pseuds/fvckingavengers
Summary: I got a new tattoo recently by a former sex partner and live blogged it on Tumblr so my readers wanted me to write a fic about it. so. here ya go.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 84





	ink covered skin

**Author's Note:**

> please, p l e a s e leave some feedback if ya liked this fic :)

Black painted walls that look gray under fluorescent lighting. The pitch of the buzzing needle alternating between high and low. The sharp ache and the burn that follows as the instrument drags along the stencil outlined on your skin.

These are the things that anchor your thoughts, or attempt to, anyway, from straying to the artist working on the latest addition to your half sleeve.

Your toes curl and back arches when he shades over a particularly sensitive area of your inner bicep. Your jaw clenches and eyes shut tight just for a moment.

“Welcome back to the world of tattooing.” He smirks beneath his mask, keeping his eyes on his work.

You force a short laugh. “Yeah, thanks.”

He moves on to the highest point of the image. His knuckles graze the curve of your breast. Only one of you remain unfazed, and all of those thoughts and memories you were trying to keep at bay washed ashore.

The hand attached to your free arm balls into a fist. Your fingernails dig deep into your palm until they nearly draw blood as you recall the way his hands felt gripping your thighs and keeping them apart as he ate you out like it was his damn job. The slow lag of his tongue lapping up your arousal straight from the source. Your body bare atop his bedspread, dripping in sweat as his fingers dexterously pump and curl inside of you.

“Jesus,” you mumble, figuring he wouldn’t hear you.

“Doing okay?” He asks, peering up at you through his lashes. _Shit_. You nod and smile.

As he begins to add color, he makes small talk. An act of mercy.

It’s strangely intimate getting a service from someone you’ve not only seen naked, but swallowed their load after they’ve cum in your mouth. He was a professional. He isn’t drowning in a sea of explicit thoughts like you are.

_“Why are you even going to him? I’m sure you can find someone just as qualified.” Wanda’s voice rings in your ears._

_“Because I’ve seen his work and his style is perfect for what I want. It’ll be fine.” You waved off._

And it started out that way. Fine. He greeted you casually and showed you his interpretation of the image you told him you wanted when you made the appointment weeks earlier. Asked a few questions about placement and colors. It wasn’t until you were on your back in his chair that your mind started to wander.

“M’just gonna move this over a bit.” He warns before repositioning your outstretched arm to the side.

His breath catches in his throat and your eyes grow wide when your fingers brush against his denim covered crotch.

“I-“ you shake your head and blink up at him. “Oh god. I’m sorry—“

He clears his throat shakes his head. “No, don’t sweat it. Totally my fault.” He chuckles softly and swallows thickly.

He swivels in his chair to load the gun with more ink. You don’t miss the way he adjusts himself in his jeans. The corners of your lips turn upward slightly.

Another thirty minutes go by. You hum along to the song playing loudly through the speaker in the corner of the room.

“Almost done.” He grins. “It’s looking badass.” He soaks a paper towel with liquid solution, gently wiping off blood and ink from your arm. It’s cold. Freezing even with the low temperature of the room. You shiver harshly and moan softly at the relief on your abused flesh. His breathing becomes shallow and he eyes you up and down. “You good?”

You hum and nod contently. “Feels good.”

That’s when the line between professional and personal blurs.

He remembers the way you shuddered under his touch even when he’d barely touch you.

_Fingertips trailing along the curve of your spine as you hug a pillow, body only covered by black bedsheets. Exchanged body heat from close proximity. Your body shook again, harder, and you whimpered softly, making him chuckle._

“Dick.” You mumbled and grin into the pillow.

“What?” He asked, feigning innocence.

_“You know what.” You roll your eyes. “You doing that shit is exactly how I wound up naked in your bed.”_

“I thought it was the whiskey and my cute face.”

“That, too.” You laugh, rolling onto your back and pulling him in for a kiss.

Both of you are silent as he makes the finishing touches. Most of the sting has ebbed into a burning sensation as he wipes away excess ink. You turn your head to watch, but get distracted by the artwork covering his arms. Sleeves that start at his shoulders and end at his wrists.

He catches you biting your lip. The familiar soft look in your eyes had him reminiscing the last time you were on your knees in front of him. Hair pulled back and out of the way, one hand on his base and the other tugging gently on his balls as you gagged on his cock, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall each time his tip hits the back of your throat.

“I think that’ll do it.” He scoots back in his chair and lays the gun down before removing his mask. “Go take a look.” He points to the mirror hanging on the wall by the window.

The three and a half hours of discomfort and mental torture you’d put yourself through was well worth it. The broad smile on your face says it all. He catches it in your reflection and smirks to himself.

“I love it. It’s gorgeous.” You turn back to him and grab your wallet. “The only way I can properly thank you is with this wad of cash.”

He takes the money from you, his brow furrowing as he double counts it. “I told you it’d be $250. This is too much.”

“Tip.” You shrug. He smiles in thanks and pockets the money in the back of his jeans. “I’ll send you a picture in a couple weeks when it’s mostly healed. Thanks again!” You smile and wave as you head out to leave the shop.

“See ya.” He murmurs behind you.

\- - -

11 o’clock.

You lay sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through your phone as the light from the tv illuminates the living room. A yellowy, gold hue glows through the closed blinds from the street lamps outside of the complex.

_Knock knock._

Your brows furrow at the sound coming from the other side of the door. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Knuckles once again rap against the wooden barrier. You get up and open the door a crack, just enough to peer through the chain lock.

“Bucky?” He goes to open his mouth, but you shut the door. After shifting the lock, the door opens again and you lean on it, arms crossed over your chest. “What are you doing here? You’ve never been to my place.”

It’s true. For your month long tryst, his apartment was home to all of your sexcapades.

He shoves his hands into his pants pockets and keeps his head down, looking at you through his eyelashes. “I - uh, I just wanted to make sure that your tattoo was healing alright.”

Your brow raises and you snort. “Residential check ups part of your job description?”

He grins bashfully, his cheeks blushing light pink. “Yeah, that was a shitty lie. I don’t know why I thought that was a good excuse.”

“You could always try the truth.” You shrug. “Probably get you farther than you think.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “The truth makes me sound like an asshole. And a fuck boy.” He scrunches his nose.

“Don’t blame the truth - your actions and the fact that you used the excuse that you’re ‘emotionally unavailable’ to end things between us makes you an asshole fuck boy. So, spit it out.”

He winces and peeks at you through one eye. “I came here to see if…you’d wanna have…sex.”

You remain silent, but a smirk stays planted on your lips. You turn on your heel beckon him over your shoulder with your finger. “Lock the door behind you.”

The second the deadbolt locks into place, his body is on yours, scooping you up in his arms and pressing you against the wall. His hands on your ass, yours in his hair, mouths meshing together and tongues tangling so obscenely that it would make a the most holy person sweat.

“Just want you to know,” he speaks while you pull his shirt over his head. “That was the hardest session I’ve ever had to sit through.”

“Yeah, your boner made that pretty evident.” You mumble against his neck, sinking your teeth into his pumping pulse and licking over the mark left behind. “Pleased my ego, though.”

“I’ll bet it did.” He chuckles and smacks your ass before moving toward your bedroom.

When your back hits the mattress, you’re bare. All clothes are scattered on the carpeted floor. He slides into you with ease, your arousal flooding out from between your thighs coats his cock. He shivers above you from the feeling of your velvety warmth stretch around him.

He’s slow with you at first. Rolling his hips against you, dragging his length in and out so sensually that your back arches off of the pillow top. He leans down to kiss along the column of your neck, sucking a bruise just above your collarbone while your fingertips caress the images inked into his arms. Skulls, a snarling wolf with blood dripping from its mouth, flowers, quotes, and a bunch of other markings that brand his flesh.

You extend your arms and wrap them around his body, digging your nails into the globes of his ass. “Fuck me like you mean it.” You grit through your teeth.

Something sparks within him. His pupils dilate and the corner of his mouth turns up into a grin. Wordlessly, he takes your leg and swings it across to the other, repositioning you to lay on your side.

He lays behind you, holding you close with your back to his chest. His pace quickens this way, skin slapping against skin, his grunts in your ear and your moans reverberating around the room.

“This what you wanted?” He nips at your ear when you push yourself against him, wanting to feel each and every inch he has to offer.

“Mhmm,” you hum delightedly when his fingers press against your clit and rubs quick circles.

Your eyes roll back. Toes curl. Nails dig into the back of his neck to keep him close as the coil in your belly threatens to release.

You warn him in just enough time, just before your body trembles and shakes. The way your walls constrict around him makes him surrender to his own climax, and you feel slick warmth erupt inside of you.

Content sighs and shallow breaths make the room rise in temperature.

“Remind me why we never did that before?” He asks, voice husky and breath hot on your shoulder.

“You’re an emotionally unavailable asshole.” You sigh, tapping the outside of his tattooed thigh.

“Right.” He sighs with a nod, slowly removing himself from you to clean himself up before bringing a cool washcloth back for you.

**Author's Note:**

> please, p l e a s e leave some feedback if ya liked this fic :)


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